


Forever Yours, Anon

by generic_captain_13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Adderall Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Bottom Sirius Black, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Gay Sirius Black, Heimlich Maneuver, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Pining, POV Sirius Black, Remus is addicted to adderall, Top Remus Lupin, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generic_captain_13/pseuds/generic_captain_13
Summary: Sirius gets 12 gifts before winter break from "Anon", Remus is more interested in Adderall than anything else, and James chokes. Seriously, where did Peter learn the Heimlich maneuver from?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 137





	1. Day 1. Get Your Own Anon

**Author's Note:**

> Day one is 7 December 2008. 
> 
> Content warning: Slash and obscene language. 
> 
> Should also note that I do not own HP or any of its ideas or imagery, nor am I making a profit from this. :)

"Who the bleeding hell took my fucking Adderall?"

It was the first of December. A light layer of fresh white snow gracefully landed onto the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Inside the castle, four six years could be found in the Gryffindor common room. The evident leader, a bespectacled noiret named James Potter, was seated next to a friendly and pudgy Peter Pettigrew. Across from James sat Sirius Black, a rebellious young man with curly black hair flowing down to his shoulders. They were engrossed in a conversation because Sirius's owl had delivered a package to him during dinner. It was small, about the size of his hand. It was wrapped in red muggle wrapping paper, with a golden ribbon. It was lumpy, a sharp contrast to the wrapping's smooth texture. Their fourth friend, Remus Lupin, a tawny-haired, studious werewolf, had just walked into the common room in search of his precious Adderall. No one dared ask him how he had acquired access to the muggle medicine, especially after the Great Incident of 2006. 

"It doesn't have a sender!" The recipient of the gift had shrieked. 

"Just open it," James said. 

"I wonder who sent it!" Peter exclaimed, earning a hasty shove from the boy on his right. 

"What if it's a prank?" Sirius stared at it cautiously. 

"An alleged prank will be the least of your worries if someone doesn't start telling me where the bleeding hell my Adderall is. We have a potions essay due tomorrow, and I forgot to do it. If I get anything less than an E on this essay, and I find out you knew where it was, I will find you and personally hex you." The three Marauders snapped their heads at a calm Remus, internally recoiling at his anger. 

However, Sirius knew (prayed) that he would have nothing to do with such hexing from the love of his life. He had a glimmer of hope that his affections might be returned, given his best mate's bisexuality. "You're just jealous because you don't have a secret admirer, Moony." Sirius stuck his tongue out at him. "One day, you might be attractive enough to have a secret admirer." He smirked, causing the other two boys to bite their tongues. 

"I'm sure your secret admirer would understand if you were discovered to be a sacrifice for my Adderall's safe return." Sirius didn't know why, but James and Peter were sputtering to control their laughter. 

"Oi! What is so funny?" The recipient asked exasperatedly. He unraveled the ribbon, causing the wrapping to fall off. Inside were about ten chocolate bars wrapped in a note written on parchment paper. He gasped. The note read:

Dearest Sirius,

I may not be a pureblood, but when I'm with you, I'm in pure bliss. Happy Christmas. 

Forever yours,

Anon 

"So she goes to Hogwarts," James smiled brightly. 

"What's bloodstatus got to do with the gift?" Peter asked. 

"It's probably referring to the gift. How would a pureblood have access to muggle chocolate?" James answered smartly.

Remus's amber eyes blinked in anger. "You lot have ten seconds to tell me where my fucking Adderall is, otherwise I will hex all of you. One--"

"Did you check under the Cloak?" Sirius responded quickly. 

Sighing, Remus muttered a "cheers then" and turned on his heel to go back to their dormitory. 

"Who poured sand in his snatch today?" Sirius wondered. James and Peter giggled again like little schoolgirls, avoiding his question. Giving up, he returned to his gift, his heart skipping a beat. Whoever Anon was, was thoughtful. He loved chocolate, and it was his favorite brand, which he had discovered from an obscure muggle chocolate shop Remus had visited while staying with his mother's family. He had given the disinherited noiret some at King's Cross at the beginning of the term. Regardless, he was glad to have more. 

For a split moment, Sirius had hoped, likely in vain, that Anon was Remus. "No," he told himself. "Don't get your hopes up."

"Can I have some?" James asked.

"Get your own Anon," Sirius scooped up his chocolate, shoved it in his robes, and left for the dormitory, leaving a groaning James behind. 

When he entered the room, his eyes immediately trained on Remus, who was hunched over on his bed, scribbling furiously on parchment on top of a closed book next to the bottle of pills. Assuming that to be the Potions essay, Sirius approached him amicably. "Moony, can I see it when you're done? I forgot about it, too." Sirius, though he'd never admit it, never forgot about homework. He simply waited until Remus was done with it so that he could save time slaving away over a dozen moldy, dusty books. That, and it was another excuse to talk to him.

Calmly, Remus commanded, "Sod off right now, Padfoot." The other scrambled to cover the parchment. Looking down at the boy before him caused his heart to swell. "What do you want?" 

He just stood there, staring at the werewolf. "Your potions essay. When you're done." 

"You'll get it when I'm done. But for right now, sod off." Turning his back against the wall and facing Sirius, Remus returned to his essay. Not wanting to upset the even-tempered boy before him, he sauntered over to his bed, pulling out the chocolate in his robes and placed it in his trunk with a disillusionment charm on them. Taking one, he lied down on his bed, staring at Remus as he ate his chocolate. The young Prefect's eyes flitted back and forth between the parchment and Sirius, and eventually, he pulled his book into his lap. After a while, with Remus still ignoring him in favor of his work, Sirius fell asleep.


	2. Day 2. Assuredly Not Gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Only swearing and slash. 
> 
> I will be posting the entire thing tonight. Hopefully. If not, I will ASAP.

After hastily copying Remus's essay (which Sirius heavily suspected was done much sooner than the previous night), the four rushed down to breakfast. James's Cloak had been moved from James's trunk to next to the door, he had noticed, and had assumed that his bespectacled friend had paid Lily, his beautiful, fierce girlfriend a visit in the middle of the night. 

Remus had looked like death itself. He said he had slept, but the rest of the Marauders knew better; his sleeping pattern was practically nonexistent. He either slept for half the day or hardly at all. Despite his sleep exhaustion, he was still as sharp-witted as ever, likely due to the mysterious pills.

When Peter innocently asked, "Do you lot think Sirius's anonymous admirer is going to strike again?" 

"I hope so," James replied. "Sirius here needs to get shagged." 

Said boy pouted. "I do not!" 

Peter chimed in, "You haven't had a girlfriend since Aurora Baines in fifth year." 

“It doesn’t count as a girlfriend if your relationship consisted of one date and a snog.” Remus took a bite of his toast. 

Before Sirius could attempt at a clever rebuttal and fail miserably, his owl swooped down and landed a small parcel in his lap. This time it was wrapped in parchment paper. He couldn't hide the blushing grin from his face as he tore apart the paper. On top was a handful of Sugar Quills, and at the bottom was a note. 

Dearest Sirius,

These Sugar Quills will never compare to your sweetness. 

Forever yours,

Anon

"How did they know Sugar Quills are my favorite?" James and Peter guffawed.

"Maybe they knew you're gay." James and Peter burst out laughing at the deep-red Sirius, and Remus cracked his 'I'm-not-going-to-stop-this-but-I-do-not-condone-it-either" smile. Sirius's heart fluttered. 

"I'm assuredly not," he denied vehemently, causing even Remus to laugh harder. 

Ignoring him, Remus looked him in his eyes. "I saw Snivellus sucking on a Sugar Quill in Potions today. 

The Sirius's face paled. "You're lying." 

"I can confirm this," Peter interjected. "I saw him pull one out."

When Sirius groaned, James stated, "Look on the bright side. If you take care of Snivellus, I'll be able to have Lily all to myself." In response, he punched the bespectacled boy on the shoulder. 

"If that greasy tosser so much as touches me, I will not hesitate to hex him."


	3. Day 3. Where Did You Learn the Heimlich Maneuver?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 will be up later tonight. But I will be watching the Chris Hansen live stream. :)
> 
> Content Warning: Underage shower masturbation, slash and swearing. Oh, and choking.

He woke up anxious the next morning. Whoever this Anon was surely knew a fair bit about him, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. Though, he had to admit: so far, the gifts he had received had been otherwise ambiguous, in which many people would enjoy. Despite that, he was still touched. 

He was so deep in thought that he almost didn't notice that he was the second to awake. Unsurprisingly, Remus's bed had been abandoned and messily made. His school supplies weren't there, indicating that the werewolf had likely left to the library. He had half a mind to find him on the Map, but realized how obsessive and stalkerish that would be. 

And Sirius Orion Black was, in fact, totally not a stalker. He would not look up his fellow Marauder on the Map. 

Instead, he opted for a shower. Sliding under the scalding water, his mind wandered. He would deny it, but he reveled in the privacy that times such as these afforded, as it was one of the only times he could brazenly divulge in intimate fantasies. His sexual knowledge was limited, but he assumed that if two men were to engage in sexual relations, they would touch each other's privates. He imagined doing so to Remus. He so desperately wanted to run his fingers down that smooth, scarred chest, memorizing each and every white, raised bump as if he'd never see them again. His hands would drift downwards. He would pull his lover into a chaste kiss as his fingers grazed over the werewolf's throbbing prick, milk-like fluid flowing out. Sirius would bend down and lick the tip.

It wasn't long before an out-of-breath Sirius pumped out pearly beads from his own twitching shaft into the shower. He stood in the shower, watching as the scalding hot water washed away his semen. With a final deep breath, he quickly finished his shower and threw his robes on. 

When he saw Remus in the Great Hall, Sirius’s heart pounded as he met his amber eyes with the memory of his illicit fantasy fresh on his mind. The real Remus was more attractive than the fantastical version, he had decided. 

He was in the middle of breakfast, mostly daydreaming of an alternate reality in which Remus fancied him and joking about Snivellus with James when his owl Bathsheba landed a package dutifully in his lap. It was wrapped in parchment paper again, but it was tied together with a red string. His heart beat spiked when he opened it and found a container of dungbombs and a note.

Dearest Sirius,

I really shouldn't be encouraging your deviance, but you'll wreak havoc around Hogwarts with or without my approval. That's one of the reasons why I love you; you're steadfast in your resolutions.

Forever Yours, 

Anon

“It’s a little unsettling how well Anon knows me,” Sirius muttered. 

“I wonder if it isn’t that Gloria Wingleton that follows you around?” Remus asked, prompting James to choke on a piece of toast. In a swift movement, Peter was behind James, his left fist balled and his right on top of his left, wrapped around the bespeckled boy’s waist. With three thrusts, the toast flew out of his mouth and into a fifth year Ravenclaw boy’s hair. 

“Cheers mate,” James smiled, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder. 

Remus furrowed his brows. “Where did you learn the Heimlich maneuver?” Peter simply shrugged, and with that, they continued their breakfast. Except, of course, the Ravenclaw boy, who had to extract the toast from his hair, and Sirius, who was wondering who Anon could be.


	4. Day 4. Did You Even Read it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit shorter. Sorry about that!
> 
> Content warning: Slash.

Sirius was disappointed after breakfast when he only received a letter addressed to him. The handwriting was foreign and unlike anything he had ever seen. He had suspected a disguising charm had been placed on it, but he was dreadful at charms, and consequently, wasn’t likely to attempt any revealing charms. That was Peter’s specialty, after all. 

During a particularly uneventful History of Magic lesson in which Sirius was seated next to Remus, he pulled out the letter and examined the envelope once more. It was a muggle envelope, and had been glued shut with no wax seal. “You should open it,” Remus whispered. “It isn’t like Binns will notice.” 

Smirking, he carefully tore it open and pulled out the letter. Inside was a single piece of parchment.

Dearest Sirius, 

I understand that you may be uncomfortable with these gifts because you don’t even know who I am. So I will briefly introduce myself. I am a Gryffindor proficient in essay composition, if my grades are any indication. My best subjects are Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms; my worst subjects are Potions and History of Magic. I have a special place in my heart for Headmaster Dumbledore, and I loathe Professor Binns. I enjoy chess and spending time with my friends. However, my favorite times are those spent in your presence. 

Forever yours,

Anon

Sirius smiled. Finally, some clues about Anon! “Who do you suppose my Anon is?” he whispered.

Remus’s eyes widened, and his face paled. “Snivellus.”

“Did you even read it? It says he’s a Gryffindor and he’s horrible at potions.”

The lycanthrope paused. “You’re pretty adamant that Anon is a male,” he replied. 

Perhaps he was simply hoping Anon was male. Specifically Remus. “Birds would send their used knickers.”

“Says the bloke that’s assuredly not bent. Honestly, Padfoot, any straight bloke would be pining for a beautiful bird.”

Panicked, Sirius shushed him and said, “I’m trying to pay attention to Binns.”

“Then pay attention to Binns.” Remus leaned forward, and if he had any less self control, Sirius would have kissed him in the middle of History of Magic.


	5. Day 5. I Hope He Blames Snivellus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me if I have any inaccuracies with British slang. I am an American trying my best to learn and use it as accurately as possible, but I'm not perfect and don't know of every single syntactical difference. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> Content warning: Slash.

Sirius could barely sleep that night. He could only remember Remus’s warm breath tickling his face, his amber eyes pouring into his silver ones, and that smirk. Remus doesn’t smirk! He tossed and turned, attempting to ignore the situation in his trousers. “Another nightmare?” Turning around, he saw Remus in the moonlight looking as handsome as ever. He felt his southern situation worsen. Still, he nodded, knowing that if he dealt his cards correctly, Remus would be in his bed, however platonically. He blinked and frowned, attempting to appear unhappy. Sighing, Remus said, “Same. Do you want me to…” 

He didn’t have to finish his sentence because Sirius had already grabbed his arm and guided him into the bed. The contact, he decided, was hot and electrifying, and it sent shivers down his spine. He could already feel his trousers dampening. How embarrassing.

Still, as Remus lay down on his bad, Sirius face him and laid his head on Remus’s shoulder, placing his hand on the lycanthrope’s scarred chest. Sirius fell asleep that night to Remus’s slow, even breaths and the wonderfully unique scent of his body wash and parchment paper.

___

At breakfast, neither James nor Peter mentioned Remus waking up in Sirius’s bed, which he was grateful for. Instead, when he got another package, they had been discussing their next prank. 

“You have to watch out for Mrs. Norris,” Remus stated gravely. “One toe out of line, and it’s detention.”

“Of course,” Sirius drawled. “That’s what the Cloak is for.”

“We’ll have to use the Map to find a proper place for the dungbombs,” James mused. 

“Mrs. Norris is usually having a kip in Filch’s office at around eleven at night for roughly ten minutes. If you’re quiet enough, you should be able to put them by the door without being caught.”

“Perfect.” James smiled. “Peter, can you start practicing the vanishing charm?”

“I’m already on it,” Peter replied, smiling brightly. “I just need to perfect it so that it lasts more than five minutes.”

“Can you also find a charm that makes it impossible to touch or pick up?”

“I can try!”

“Wonderful!” Sirius exclaimed. “This will be wonderful. Filch is going to go barking mad.” 

James added, “I hope he blames Snivellus.” 

Sirius snarled, and put on his best impersonation of Filch. “Oi, you brat! Wash yerself, yer stinkin’ my entire office.”

The four laughed when Sirius’s owl dropped off another package. This one was small and lumpy, and also wrapped in parchment. This time, though, it was tied together with a golden ribbon. Tearing it open, he found a large snowflake with silver and blue mists circling around it, which implied that it was a real, charmed snowflake. Underneath, there was another note.

Dearest Sirius, 

This snowflake inefficaciously rivals your singularity, complexity, and aesthetic. 

Forever yours,

Anon

He gasped, holding it up to the light. It reflected and bent the light. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered, tucking it into his pocket. “I love it.” 

“This Anon is really putting in a lot of effort for you,” James said, attempting to be casual. “I mean, I would charm a snowflake for Lily, but for her birthday or something. She must think you’re really special.”

“I wonder if tracing charms work?” Sirius wondered out loud. 

“Doubt it,” Remus answered quickly. “If he can charm a snowflake, then he certainly knows how to counter tracing charms.”

“I agree,” Peter chimed in suddenly. “This witch is brill. She would certainly not want to be identified quite yet.” Slumping into his chair, Sirius sighed. Remus and Peter were right; Anon was certainly smarter than that. And he didn’t even know any tracing charms.


	6. Day 6. You're Not Even Taking Divination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: slash and swearing.

Sirius had been disappointed when he didn’t receive any packages at breakfast. Had Anon given up on him? Had he moved on? He shook his head. If he could, he would thank Anon for the gesture, and if he (she?) was attractive, Sirius would ask him (her?) out. Though, if Anon were a bird, Sirius would feel endless amounts of guilt because, sure, there had been birds in the past that were infatuated with him, and he had recently started to let the bold ones down gently, but he had no intentions of leading on someone that was clearly extremely emotionally invested in him, and he dared say in love with him. 

It was flattering, really. He was used to the romantic attention especially during Valentine’s day, but it was all superficial. Nothing, in his opinion, was worth giving a damn over, though, because none of them were tawny-haired werewolves that happened to be his best friend next to James. (But really, James was a brother, which was similar though completely independent of best friendship.) So, he reasoned, if Anon were a bloke and decently nice looking, he would give Anon a chance. 

When he reached the dormitory after lessons had concluded for the day, Sirius jumped onto his bed and groaned. “Anon forgot about me, Moony!” He whinged. 

“Your owl stopped by while you were out.” Remus didn’t look up from his writing. 

“Really?” He sprang up and sprinted towards Remus’s bed, plopping down on it. “Did you pick it up for me?”

“Your bloody owl wouldn’t leave,” Remus sighed, tossing Sirius a sizable box. “Annoying cunt it is.”

“Thank you, Moony, you’re the best!” Sirius tore the parchment wrapping open to reveal a glass box with a singular red rose inside. Its thorns had been removed, and there wasn’t a single dying petal. It was truly beautiful, and he noticed a red and purple mist surrounding it. Attached was a note written in neat handwriting with muggle adhesives. 

Dearest Sirius,

The day this rose wilts will be the day I stop loving you.

Forever yours,

Anon

His heart began beating faster. “I think I’m falling in love with Anon,” Sirius smiled. “He charmed a rose so that it’ll wilt when he dies.”

“Sounds like a bloody romantic bloke,” Remus said. “I really hate Divination.”

“You’re not even taking Divination, Moony,” Sirius stated with curiosity. Leaning closer to the parchment, he exclaimed, “Why are you writing an essay for a class you’re not even taking?”

“I needed money for more Adderall,” he replied. Sirius squinted at him; he was biting his tongue and flaring his nose. Those were Remus’s tells for lying. But if the Great Snake Fiasco of 2005 was anything, it served as a reminder to never, ever, ever call Moony out for lying. 

Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll finish this and have the rest up tomorrow. :)
> 
> Also, side note: Just imagine a sequel where the rose starts to wilt after Remus dies in the battle of Hogwarts. Imagine Harry finding the melted snowflake and the note in 12 Grimmauld Place. My heart can't handle this much angst.


	7. Day 7. We Had Misplaced Faith that You Were Still Interested in Birds

Sirius stumbled into the dormitory, doubling over laughing. It was already nearly midnight, and his friends were anxiously awaiting his return. Tossing the Cloak at James and the map at Peter, he announced, “You should have seen the look on Filch’s face.” He jumped into Remus’s bed, which was filled with blank parchment, a quill, and ink. The lycanthrope hastily gathered the parchment and placed it in his trunk. Sirius continued laughing. “He was steaming from his ears when he couldn’t find them!”

The other three laughed with him. “What do you suppose Dumbledore is going to say?” Peter asked.

James replied, “He’ll probably laugh in Filch’s filthy face.”

They chatted happily about another successful prank on Filch. Peter’s eyes were glazed over when James pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky. Remus sighed; being a prefect, he wasn’t supposed to condone, let alone partake in such degeneracy. Sirius, though, was nervous. He had a habit of having loose lips when it came to Firewhisky. 

James suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Sirius’s heart dropped; unless he wanted to find himself dipping his toes in the Great Lake, he would have to occasionally pick truth, and at that moment, he didn’t trust that he wouldn’t accidentally overshare his feelings for Remus. However, his fears were quelled when Remus suggested Most Likely. “Most Likely sounds interesting,” he added enthusiastically. 

James went first. “Who’s the most likely to cry in public? One, two, three.” Remus, Sirius, and James pointed at a defeated Peter, who had pointed in vain at Remus. 

“It was one time in first year! I had lost my sweets from home!” Peter complained as he took a shot. “Fine. Who’s the most likely to take his trousers off at a party? Three, two, one.” Unsurprisingly, everyone pointed at Sirius, who had pointed at James. 

“Fair enough,” Sirius drawled, throwing the shot back in one, swift, fiery gulp. “Okay. Who’s the most likely to marry young? Three, two, one.” Everyone pointed at James, who even pointed at himself.

“Forgive me, Lily, for what I am about to do,” he said before drinking his shot of Firewhisky. “Alright. Now,” he started, surveying the room before his eyes landed on Remus. “Who is the most likely to wear the trousers in a relationship with another bloke?” He asked, maintaining eye contact with Remus, who folded his arms in disapproval. “Three, two, one!” This time, James, Remus, and Peter pointed at Remus, and Sirius sat there, unsure of what who to choose (because he was certainly not that bloke and there was no way Remus was--)

“Hilarious, Prongs,” Remus rolled his eyes. “I simply cannot contain my laughter.” With that, he took a long swig of his shot. 

“Why didn’t Padfoot just point at Moony if he was assuredly not a homosexual?” Peter inquired. “He’s the only one here that fancies blokes, right?”

It was over. The Firewhiskey had already taken control over Sirius’s prefrontal cortex, and consequently, there was little that prevented him from confessing. Though, he hadn’t ever had a good reason to keep this from his friends. What would Peter and James have done, what with their two other friends being attracted to blokes? If they didn’t kick Remus out for being a werewolf or bisexual, what did it matter if Sirius was gay? “About that,” he said, slurring his words together. “I’ve been meaning to tell you lot something. I don’t fancy birds.”

“I knew it!” James exclaimed. “Moony, Wormtail, pay up!” Said boys groaned and handed him a sickle as James cackled. 

“You bet on me?” Sirius asked dramatically; did they really discuss his love life without him? 

Remus gave him an apologetic look. “If it makes you feel better, Wormtail and I are a sickle poorer. We had misplaced faith that you were still interested in birds.”

Sirius’s jaw slacked, and before he could respond, James interjected, “Oh! Speaking of your love life, did Anon send you anything today?”

“Oh, yes.” He had found it by the door that day, which definitely indicated that it was a Gryffindor, and likely a male unless someone was helping Anon. It hurt; the more he heard of Anon, the more he envisioned him to be the one he fell in love with. But, as Sirius knew best, things didn’t always worked out the way he had wanted. Anon was probably a beautiful bird that he wasn’t attracted to and felt at least moderately obligated to entertain her. But as he opened the package, he found an eagle feather quill with a note attached. 

Dearest Sirius,

I hope that, one day, Merlin willing, you'll use this quill to write my last name next to your first. 

Forever yours,

Anon

"How did he know I needed a new quill? That's it, Anon is a stalker." Sirius slurred, sprawling over Remus, and in his inebriation, he fell asleep. The next morning, he woke up in Remus’s bed, but to his disappointment, the lycanthrope wasn’t anywhere in sight.


	8. Day 8. Life isn’t a Muggle Fairytale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recap: The Marauders got drunk and Sirius came out. Finally.
> 
> Up next: Sirius gets another letter from Anon, and contemplates who Anon might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't upload the rest. Turns out, I'm trans, and I've been coping with that. But I'm back, and will be posting the rest now. :)

Sirius was alone in the dormitory, and he had a blistering headache. He rushed to loo and vomited. When he was finished, he cast an off-handed cleaning spell and brushed his teeth. He noticed a glass of lemon water by Remus’s bed, and Sirius gulped it thankfully. If he had any reason to fall in love with Remus Lupin, that was one damn good one.

If it weren’t a Monday, he would have retired to the safety of his bed. Or Remus’s. (Probably Remus’s.) When he felt well enough to get breakfast, he changed his clothes and left for the Great Hall. When he saw Remus laughing, his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t uncommon for the lycanthrope to smile or chortle, but laughing was another subject altogether. It almost felt like Sirius was the only one capable of accomplishing such a feat, as if he was created to do as such. Then again, he was the most hilarious person he knew. Besides Remus, of course. 

He slid into the seat next to Remus, who was the first to greet him. “Merlin, Padfoot, you look like you just saw your mother. You must have been pissed.”

Peter added, “Moony was worried about you—ouch! Uh, I mean, we were all worried about you.”

“Equally,” James said. “We didn’t think we’d see you before noon. We were about to convince Moony to lie to Minnie and tell her you’re under the weather.”

Sirius smiled. “Thanks mates.” While he spoke, Bathsheba swooped down and handed him a letter. It was in a muggle envelope with glue adhesive, and it looked identical to the one he had received from Anon the week before. His heart raced as he shakily tore the letter open to reveal a half-page letter written on parchment paper. 

Dearest Sirius, 

In an attempt to prove my sincerity, I felt it best to describe the moment in which I fell in love with you. However, I don’t remember one singular moment in which I fell in love with you; I only know that I’ve wanted to be yours for years. In fact, I’m fairly certain that it was a series of moments that transpired and resulted in my present feelings for you. You’re wonderful, and those who don’t recognize it are missing out on one of the most gorgeous wizards I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. I apologize; I’m having a hard time staying focused.

The first moment was in first year, when you first smiled at me. You didn’t realize it then, but it meant the world to me. The second time was in second year, when you showed me kindness that I hadn’t yet received. The third time was in fourth year, and at that time, I understood. Ever since then, I’ve pined for your affection, your attention, and your love. I hope that you’d consider me. 

Forever yours, 

Anon

It was quiet for a moment. Peter, James, and Remus leaned in for his reaction. Truthfully, Sirius was touched. He wished desperately to have the ability to connect a face to the letter, to Anon. He couldn’t help but envision Remus sitting on his bed, his tongue sticking out, intently pouring over the parchment with which he used to bare his soul. He smiled and sighed wistfully. "I'm going to be kidnapped by a romantic, thoughtful stalker,” he declared, his cheeks rosening as he reread the letter. 

His eyes darted immediately to Remus, as the lycanthrope’s reactions to his antics was how he gauged how well he had executed his jokes. To his surprise, Remus’s eyes widened, and his nose flared subtlety before returning to its original state. Sirius ignored James and Peter laughing and joking about how it was really Snivellus or Gloria Wingleton who was sending him these gifts. In that moment, he knew who Anon was. 

A second later, he told himself, “Life isn’t a muggle fairy tale.”


	9. Day 9. I Still Like You Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is very short. Hope the longer "days" coming up makes up for it!

Dearest Sirius,

I hope you enjoy these, and share with your friends. 

Forever yours, 

Anon

James, Peter, and Remus peered over his shoulder and read with him. In front of them was a large pile of forgotten eggs and toast, as well as a few packages of fizzing whizbees. “I’m starting to really like this Anon,” Peter exclaimed, grabbing for a package and taking one. In an instant, he was hovering a metre off the ground. James was laughing at Peter, taking one as well, and hovered over the ground next to Peter. Remus slid in next to Sirius, sitting close enough so that he could feel the warmth on his breath. 

“Anon seems to really fancy you,” he said, and if Sirius was any expert on the inner workings of Remus’s mind, he heard a hint of sadness. He felt a pang in his gut; was Remus jealous of Sirius? Did he know who Anon was, and harbor feelings for him?

Despite himself, he smiled, leaning in impossibly closer to Remus and answered, “Don’t worry, Moony. I still like you better.” Their eyes locked; Sirius felt like he saw his future: a small cottage next to James and Lily; Sirius working as an Auror; late-night adventures; cuddling on the couch; telling him “I love you” and kissing him. His heart pounded, and he gulped nervously. 

His eyes flitted away, and for a brief moment, he caught Dumbledore’s stare. From a distance, it appeared as though his headmaster’s eyes were twinkling, and if he was correct, he saw a slight smirk on his lips.


	10. Day 10. Minnie is Old Enough to Be Your Grandmother

“Moony, I need your notes for Transfiguration.” Sirius demanded as he approached the lycanthrope in the Gryffindor Commons. 

“One moment,” Remus sighed, reading into his bag and pulling out the parchment. Scanning it over, Remus’s nose flared; he groaned. “Bleeding fucking hell.” 

“What’s wrong?” Sirius peered over Remus’s shoulder, inhaling his earthy scent deeply. His knees weakened as he laid his head on top of the lycanthrope’s. Scanning the parchment himself, Sirius saw a detailed, hyper-realistic depiction of McGonagall’s face, with wrinkles all over her and sunken, solemn eyes. He wanted to joke about Remus’s romantic relationship with their professor, and even accuse him of cheating on Sirius. But he knew better than to tease a furious Remus, as evidenced by the Great Eye Socket Complication of 2002. Instead, he said optimistically, “At least you were paying attention.” Remus moved his head and glared at him. 

“I remember concentrating on the lesson,” he insisted. “I had never felt like I had paid better attention my entire life.”

“Moony, did you take that muggle medicine?” He wanted desperately to lean down and connect their lips. They were lush, and pink, and curved outward. When he realized he was staring, he moved his eyes towards the parchment.

“None of your bloody business, Padfoot.” With that, Remus gathered his things and stormed out through the Portrait Hole. 

___

With James spending time with Lily in the Gryffindor Commons, Peter snoring over his Herbology book, and Remus writing on parchment (as he seemed to make a habit of lately), Sirius was beginning to think he wasn’t going to be getting anything from Anon that day when Bathsheba knocked on his window. Smiling brightly, he took the sizable package and gave her an Owl Treat. When she fluttered away, he tore into the packaging. Inside was a wizard’s chess set and a note.

Dearest Sirius,

Be the queen to my king?

Forever yours, 

Anon

If he were honest with himself, his heart skipped a beat. He smiled, and he was certain his cheeks were tinted red. Taking a deep sigh, he said, “I’m in love.” It was the truth; as deeply as he felt for Remus, he was developing feelings for Anon. It was terrifying; he had little idea who Anon was, save for the fact that it was assuredly not Snivellus or hopefully not Gloria Wingleton. He now had evidence that Anon was a bloke, and introverted, and intelligent. He was like Remus, except decidedly more romantic. Which, in Sirius’s opinion, was insanely attractive.

Remus replied, “I know I’m a fantastic illustrator, but Minnie is old enough to be your grandmother.”

“No,” Sirius denied bitterly, “I’m talking about Anon.” This was partly the truth, but he was hoping Remus, in a fit of jealous rage, would throw his parchment to the ground, declare his undying love for him, and embrace him in such a passionate kiss that time seemingly stands still. 

Unfortunately, Remus did nothing of the sort, and calm and evenly responded, “What did he get you today, Padfoot?”

“A romantic note and wizard’s chess,” he gushed. “If he were to ask me to dinner today, I reckon I’d agree in a heartbeat.”

The lycanthrope bit his lip. (Sirius was definitely not turned on by that. No. That’s weird.) “Even if it was Peter?” 

He paused. He had never considered that Peter was Anon. It would make sense to Sirius; Peter was always saying too much, and was very interested in Anon. That, and Anon knew him well, and had noted that Sirius had shown him kindness. Though, this arose an ethical concern, because being in love with one friend and dating another simply due to that friend’s romantic interest seemed, for all intent and purposes, morally abhorrent. 

Ultimately, Sirius answered, “I’d consider it, but because of moral conflicts, I would be hesitant.” It was a fair though noncommittal answer, and he prayed Remus would accept it.

Peter stirred, his obnoxious snoring dwindling into deep breathing. “What if it were me?” Remus asked. 

Sirius panicked. He wasn’t sure if he should confess, or joke. Ultimately, due to his increasing discomfort, he laughed uncomfortably. “Minnie would pitch a fit if she knew you were cheating and propositioning me.” 

At that, Remus threw a pillow at him, muttering, “You bloody wanker.” Sirius threw it back, running into the Gryffindor Commons, and Remus threw the pillow at Lily’s face. When she shrieked in surprise, James’s eyes burned with rage and aggressively threw it at a confused Peter, who had only woken up to investigate the noise. And thus began the Prolific Pillow Palooza of 2008.


	11. Day 11. Please Forgive Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost over. The next part is the end. :)

Sirius tossed and turned for half the night. Not only did he have to worry about detention on top of the Anon situation, he also had recurrent nightmares that seemed to have been triggered by stress. Cruciatus curses, burning hexes, Imperius curses, a Black family original curse that seemed to have written “bloodtraitor” and “disappointment” on his chest and back respectively while causing such immense pain that he felt as though he were dying. His cousin (or, whatever she was to him) Bellatrix’s crazed laughter as he screamed in agony until his throat was raw and he was coughing up blood. 

He whimpered, and less than a minute later, Remus was sitting at his side. “Are you alright?” He asked delicately, like if he asked to aggressively, Sirius would shatter like a vase. He shook his head. He stretched his arm out, pulling Remus into his bed. 

It was blissful sleeping in the same bed as Remus. His earthy, bookish and chocolate-infused scent comforted him, and when he inhaled deeply, he felt safe. No one could harm him with Remus there. He laid his head on Remus’s chest. His heartbeats were even, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Sirius couldn’t help but smile. For that moment, he pretended they were married and in their own home. Remus would make breakfast in the morning, and afterwards, would read the Daily Prophet while Sirius showered. Later that night, they would sit on the couch and listen to Remus’s muggle music player. With this fantasy in mind, he drifted out of consciousness peacefully. 

___  
Dearest Sirius,

Baby, it’s cold outside. 

Forever yours, 

Anon

Sirius held up a black leather jacket in awe. "Whoever this Anon is, has bloody good taste!" He exclaimed. 

“I always thought you’d look nice in a leather jacket,” Peter commented. 

Sirius smirked. “I always look nice. Sexy, even.” His eyes caught Remus’s, whose pupils had dilated and chapped lips were red from being bitten. A chill ran down his spine, and he turned away. If only the lycanthrope was Anon. Things would be so much easier for him because he wouldn’t have to choose between the love of his life and possibly the only realistic chance Sirius had at happiness. No; Anon was more likely to be Peter or some crazed bloke that Sirius had once helped in class years ago. 

But, if he were being honest, he couldn’t imagine imagine Peter writing the letters nor the notes. More likely, James had written the notes, and Remus wrote the letters for him. Though, that didn’t entirely deter him from being deeply attracted to Anon. He was attentive, intelligent, and witty like Remus, but with a sense of romanticism that the lycanthrope lacked. These combined qualities were Sirius’s perfect bloke, and if he wanted to date someone, he would rather date he who Sirius was better compatible with. 

With that in mind, as Sirius laid on his bed that night, he stared at the ceiling as tears silently stained his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Moony,” he whispered shakily, “but I have to let you go. This Anon is perfect for me, and I can’t let him pass me by. Please forgive me.”


	12. Day 12. Shut Up, Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius finally meets Anon. And Peter really, really, really needs to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. I've had this idea for months, and it's finally done. I'm very proud of this, but I'm excited to share the final part with you all. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the kudos, the bookmarks, and the comments. I appreciate them all immensely.

"Moony, you seem happy today," Peter commented in between a bite of toast. 

Remus smiled brightly. "Cheers, Wormtail. It's the Adderall."

Peter furrowed his brows and said, "I thought it was because you're going to--ow!" Sirius had noticed James's leg colliding with Peter's. "What the--oh! Uh, I thought it was because you're going to enjoy these eggs are that are so delicious!" 

Remus deadpanned, "I hate eggs. And anyway, they're burnt."

"Just the way you like them! Inedible!" At that, James began coughing, and Peter had to perform the Heimlich Maneuver again. 

When Bathsheba fluttered down, and gave Sirius a letter, Remus exclaimed, "Oh thank Merlin." Ripping it open hastily, Sirius read the long letter.

Dearest Sirius,

I sincerely hope you enjoyed these gifts. As you may have guessed, I struggle conveying my emotions effectively with verbal communication. I’m rather introverted, and as such, I prefer my own company over all others’ except yours. I can’t explain why, but you’re different. You’re the personification of energy itself, accompanying everything wonderful in this world. Though, truth be told, there doesn’t seem to be enough wonderful things nowadays. Perhaps that’s why I’m so drawn to you; you’re the light in this dark, dreary world. 

I understand that this may be coming on strong, but hopefully you understand. I’m far from the type to easily fall in love. Sure, I’ve had feelings for others, but overall, I’ve never felt like this before. As I’ve previously mentioned, I’ve felt this way about you for some years. It’s not been something I could easily forget because you’re not easy to forget (if the History of Magic Incident of 2007 was any proof). I cannot emphasize enough that if I wasn’t completely serious about you, I wouldn’t go through the mental turmoil of potential rejection. 

With my explanation in mind, I suppose you might be interested in my reasoning. I understand you to be the dramatic sort of bloke, and you relish positive attention. I figured if I wanted any sort of chance at attaining your attention, I would have to do my best to make sure you felt special and loved. Because, dearest Sirius, you are special to me. 

To close, I do hope you enjoyed these presents. I can’t possibly expect you to return my feelings, but I can certainly pray. If you wish to meet me, I will be in the Gryffindor Common Room at eleven tonight. Please do not feel obligated to meet me; I understand if you’re disinterested. It has been my pleasure. Happy Christmas. 

Forever yours,

Anon

His heart swelled; he would have an opportunity to meet Anon! Should he wear the jacket? Yes, he should definitely wear the jacket. He looked lush in it. Another question arose: should he arrive early, on time, or late? He simultaneously neither wanted to appear desperate nor disinterested.

“I’m going to meet Anon,” he declared, smiling from ear to ear. “We’re meeting tonight.”

“Finally!” James exclaimed, punching Sirius’s shoulder. “I was worried that you weren’t going to pull ever again.”

“Oi Prongs, I pull,” he insisted. 

“It doesn’t count if it’s a solo affair,” Remus replied offhandedly. Peter and James laughed when Sirius glared at him resentfully. 

“Anyway,” Sirius changed the topic. “I have the fizzing whizbees and the Cloak. If we can acquire a long, dark cloak or sheet, we can torment the prefects.”

“I resent that, Padfoot,” Remus fired back. “Why torment perfectly innocent prefects when Snivellus is right there, as greasy as ever?”

“We might as well get in one last prank on him before Sirius meets him tonight.” James managed to say in between laughing. 

Peter furrowed his brows. “I thought Padfoot was meeting—”

“Shut up, Peter,” Remus and James said simultaneously. 

Sirius felt that nervous pang in his gut again. Was Peter going to say “I thought Padfoot was meeting me tonight”? If that were the case, this was either an elaborate prank or Peter truly harbored feelings for him. Though he had new anxieties about the situation, he was hopeful that Anon was as physically attractive as was his personality.

___

It was nearing eleven at night, and Sirius was pacing the dormitory. What if Anon didn’t show up? What if he realized that Sirius wasn’t worth his time? What if this was all a massive prank from Bellatrix (or even his estranged younger brother, Regulus) to humiliate him? To blackmail him into doing as they wished? 

James and Peter were asleep, those lazy sods. This was a monumental moment in his life, and his best friends in the entire world were sleeping? He shook his head. At least there was Remus, who was reading a book on his bed. “At least I have one supportive friend,” Sirius cried dramatically. “What are you doing, Moony?”

Remus’s fingers shakily turned the page. “I have a prefect meeting at eleven,” he lied. Sirius narrowed his eyes. It was uncharacteristic for him to lie, especially about prefect matters. 

But catching Remus in his occasional lies was disastrous, as evidenced by the Pudding Face Incident of 2003. He shivered; he remembered finding pudding in places pudding should never be a day later. “Whatever you say, Moony,” he responded neutrally. “I have to meet the love of my life in the Gryffindor Commons now.”

“I will see you when you return. Have fun.” With that, Remus turned another page shakily and Sirius ran down the staircase. 

It wasn’t the time to cry. It was a time of celebration; Sirius was going to soon have a boyfriend, or at the very least, a very pleasant night with Anon. He could mourn his nonexistent romantic relationship with Remus later; at that time, it was about Anon. 

He sat down on the couch, readjusting the leather jacket and his black boots. He hadn’t touched his hair, but he ran his fingers through his silky strands. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Any minute. 

He stayed there for a few minutes, his heart racing wildly with his eyes closed until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He recognized the touch, the electricity radiating from the skin, instantly. “Remus,” he opened his eyes, “what are you doing here? What about your prefect meeting?”

“I lied,” he admitted. He had a hand behind his back. “I didn't have a prefect meeting.”  
Sirius’s mind was racing; was Remus really Anon? “I had figured. But are you really—

“Anon, yes.” Remus bit his lip. Sirius nearly whined. “James has it in his head that you fancy me, and since I’m desperately in love with you… I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, Sirius.Um, I got you a stuffed bear for the nights we’re apart.” He brought his hand forward to present a tawny bear with amber eyes. Sirius gratefully took it and smelled it; it even had Remus’s earthy, bookish scent. He didn't know what to say; he was dizzy with happiness, so instead of saying anything, he gingerly placed the bear behind him. He suddenly connected their lips together and climbed into his lap. 

His fingers roamed Remus’s hair from a previously unfamiliar angle. He pressed their chests together to eliminate any and all the space between them. Remus’s hands roamed Sirius’s back as he bucked his hips. They groaned softly against the other’s mouth. When Sirius pulled away, he stammered, “But, Peter… a, a prank… a fairytale… not real.”

“I’m real if you are,” Remus said, running a shaky hand over Sirius’s cheek.

“Forever.” It wasn’t a question; it was a demand. 

“Forever,” Remus confirmed breathlessly. “I’m forever yours.” There wasn’t a need for further discussion. With that, they returned to their dormitory, Sirius clinging to Remus’s arm and the bear, and cast a silencing charm.

___

When school resumed in January, Remus and Sirius’s necks were littered with bruises in various stages of healing, from pink to red to a few purple ones. They wore scarves, much to James’s amusement. He gloated, “No one knows Padfoot like me.”

“I know him better now,” Remus winked, prompting disgusted sounds from Peter and James.

The first week back was uneventful until Transfiguration class. Remus’s scarf had briefly fallen, and while he was readjusting it, McGonagall had asked, “What happened, Mr. Lupin?”

“I’m recovering from an illness in which my skin was particularly prone to bruising,” Remus lied easily. 

“I thought it was Sirius,” Peter said dumbly. 

“Shut up, Peter,” Sirius and Remus snapped at him with blushed cheeks.

“Five points for lying to me, Mr. Lupin.” McGonagall shook her head. “Honestly, as a prefect, I expected better behavior from you. And couldn’t you have waited until the end of the year? Now I owe Headmaster Dumbledore a galleon.” The classroom erupted in a fit of giggles as Remus mumbled an apology. 

When the class ended, Remus hesitantly approached Sirius, who enthusiastically grabbed the lycanthrope’s hand and dragged him to their next class. Even though the future was uncertain, Sirius knew that as long as Remus was with him every step of the way, everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're curious, I have a Pansmione piece I'll be working on, as well as my Wolfstar/Drarry drabbles. 
> 
> After the Pansmione piece is done, I have another multichapter Wolfstar piece I have planned.


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